


Cold Oak Cross Road Blues

by landrews



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Demon Deals, Gen, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 04:53:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1027443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/landrews/pseuds/landrews
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean tries and tries again, until there's only one thing left to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Oak Cross Road Blues

**Author's Note:**

> Set during S2 Finale- 
> 
> Disclaimers: Not mine. Kripke's, CW, et al.
> 
> A/N: Written in November 2010 for Last Author Standing prompt: [character] gets stuck in a time loop situation - All dialogue from “All Hell Breaks Loose Part 2”- title thanks to Robert Johnson

 

 

Dean comes to again, leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom. His gaze falls directly on Sam's corpse. There's no scent of smoke and his lungs aren't burning. He sighs and waits for Bobby's entrance through the front door behind him. 

He turns his head right as Bobby calls his name and lifting a bucket of chicken, says, “I brought you this back.”

His stomach rolls, shooting acid up his throat. “No, thanks, I'm fine,” he forces out, then swallows. He's far from fine and Bobby should know that. He takes a breath. Bobby does know that. He just doesn't understand how far from fine he really is. Dean's tried to explain it to him, the time loop, but Bobby thinks he's just melting down. He gave up four loops ago. 

“You should eat somethin'.”

“I said, 'I'm fine'.” Dean rolls off the frame and goes for the bottle of Jack on the table. He takes a long swallow while Bobby watches. He stares down at the table, waiting for Bobby's lines.

“Dean. I hate to bring this up, I really do. Don't 'ya think maybe it's time we bury Sam?”

No. Because he's already tried that, they both have, in black dirt and red clay and even the damn dirt road to Cold Oak, in the very spot Sam died, and after he's done, before he can even wipe the grave dirt from his hands onto his jeans, he's back in the doorway, staring down at his cold, dead brother, with Bobby coming in the door trying to force-feed him hot chicken. “No.”

He sits, because he can't stand anymore. He's tired and he doesn't know what he's supposed to do.

Bobby searches for the right words. “We could, maybe...”

“What? Torch his corpse?” Been there. Done that. On a byre, the first time. The second time, Bobby helped him torch the house. Dean can still taste the smell of burning hair and scorched metal from lighting Sam and the Impala up together. That time, he'd figured he'd just torch his entire life. He shakes his head. It didn't work. “Not yet.”

Bobby leans towards him, his big, calloused hands landing flat on the table, and Dean knows he means well, but it still makes him mad, because he's heard Bobby say this eleven times already and he knows what follows. “I want you to come with me.”

“I'm not going anywhere.” He's already tried that, though it about killed him leaving Sam there to whatever might've come for him. He did it the one time and hasn't repeated that mistake. No.

And then it starts. 

“Dean, please.” Bobby's trying to pull him back, tell him there's work to be done, that Sam isn't all there ever was to Dean. That Dean can come back from this, but Dean's tried. He's tried to come back from this, but Sam is his responsibility. 

“Why don't you cut me some slack,” Dean growls.

His purpose in life is to keep Sam safe from the dark, the thing under the bed, and the yellow-eyed demon. How can he still be standing here while Sam's laid out in there? On a dirty, torn mattress, blood caking his back, with the faint scent of corruption slipping off his skin? And Dean can't even manage to see him through to the bitter end? What is he supposed to do?

“I just don't think you should be alone, that's all. I gotta admit I could use your help. Somethin' big is going down. End of the world big.”

Dean hasn't lost it yet, not in the last eleven rounds, but he can't do this anymore. Why can't Bobby just shut the fuck up and leave him alone? “Then let it end!” he shouts. It feels good. He feels stronger.

“You don't mean that,” Bobby says, sorrow lacing his words.

The chair clatters back as Dean stands. What the fuck does the world need him for? 

Bobby squares up with him. 

Dean channels his rage, keeps his voice low. “You don't think so? Huh? You don't think I've given enough?” He tilts his head towards Sam. He carries the heat of the flames he's lit more than once to burn Sam to ashes, to cremate his Dad, like a brand on his skin. “You don't think I've paid enough? I'm done with it.” And he decides right then he won't try again. He won't let Bobby look away; wants him to know he means it. “All of it. Now, if you know what's good for you, you turn around and get the hell out of here.”

When Bobby doesn't move, Dean explodes towards him, shoves Bobby away from him. “Go!”

Bobby hardly shifts, eyes grief-stricken, and Dean could hate him for that, but instead the fight drains out of him. He's the only family Dean has left. They just can't help each other right now. Dean's on his own. “I'm sorry.” He needs Bobby to go, just go, and let him figure out what he's supposed to do with Sam. “I'm sorry, please just go.” Dean retreats from Bobby's hurt, washing up at the table. He supports his weak knees by holding onto the back of the chair he finds under his hands. 

Bobby turns away. “You know where I'll be.”

Nearly two weeks by his count, and it's really the first time he's taken a deep breath. He lights some candles, and just lets the evening progress into night without fighting against it. He just sits and talks to Sam.

And then it comes to him. Bobby'll think he did it on purpose, and maybe he has, maybe this is all his own doing, somehow. He should have died twice over already. Sam will be mad. But what choice does he have? The crossroad has been beckoning all along and if they want him that bad... At least the days will start flipping over again, and when he talks to Sam, Sam will talk back.

 

 


End file.
